


Protocols

by glorious_clio



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, misuse of commlinks, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: PWP, Bail and Breha have to make time for their own pleasure, timezones and long distances be damned. Set well before the Empire.





	1. Protocols

**Author's Note:**

> I got mad about wage theft, there’s a lot going on at work. I’ve recently applied for a new position elsewhere and I would love if you crossed your fingers for me. Feels odd that I’m posting smut for luck, but whatever. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, and I'm still in shock that I wrote this and even more surprised that I'm posting it.

Where'd you learn your new moves,  
Where'd you go when I can't get through,  
Can they do the things I do?

-Protocol, Leon Else

 

* * *

 

Breha Organa was good at a lot of things. The concept of time and planetary orbits wasn’t necessarily one of them.

Mostly how the Alderaani planetary system was different than Courasant’s. Rotations and revolutions for intergalactic work had been more or less standardized; of course, each planet, for the most part, kept their own time.

Perhaps it wasn’t that she didn’t understand it, she was just irritated by it. Mainly having to look up what time it was in the Senatorial District of Coursant every time she wanted to send her husband a message.

According to her datapad, it was the middle of the night.

According to her calendar, she had nothing for the rest of the day. Her staff had given her a rare afternoon to herself.

And if Bail kept his promises, their channel was always open between them.

Something about these facts made her flush. She was bored, she missed her husband. And she wanted, _oh,_ she wanted him. She wanted to relax with him, and she wanted an orgasm. Soon. And it would be three weeks until he was home again.

They had never done this, she wasn’t sure he’d want to, er, play with her in this way. Still, she would ask - he’d be gentle if he didn’t want to try this, and then she’d be back to square one.

But first... she adjusted the curtains in her bedroom, the daylight filtering through the lace. She moved her side-table down the side of her bed to angle her comm. Breha then selected her prettiest basics - not something she normally thought of. When Bail was there, they never lasted too long on her skin, and when he wasn’t, she generally didn’t bother. But a holocall was... visual. A black, lacy bra and knicker set that would hopefully show up in the flickery blue. She pulled up thigh-high stockings and then wrapped herself in a silver robe. Cocking her head in her vanity mirror she considered jewelry, and then took it all off and took her hair down, letting it sweep around her like a dark cape.

Satisfied, Breha pushed back all her blankets and sent a message to her husband, “I feel so lonely without you.”

She waited for him to reply, shivery with anticipation. She debated pulling out a trusty toy or two, but decided to be patient. She didn’t want any expectations; this was something she wanted to do _with_ Bail. He might have ideas of his own.

After a few moments, he replied, “Are you alright?”

“What are you wearing?” she sent back without hesitation. Her mouth suddenly dry, she leaned over for a sip of water, just as her holo chimed. She took a quick sip, then settled back in what she hoped was an alluring position. Breha pressed _receive_.

“B?” Bail asked, his voice rough with sleep as he stared into his hololens. He was sitting on his bed, legs over the sides. She could see his rumpled sleep shirt, his hair was a mess.

“Hi,” she said, smiling. She was lying on her right side, her arm propping up her head, elbow digging into the mattress. Her knees were slightly bent, and the robe covered just about everything but her stockinged feet and calves.

“Is this... what is this?” He tried blinking the sleep from his eyes, then passed a hand over them.

“Are you... busy?” She traced her left hand over the sheets.

He barked a laugh. “No.” Bail squinted. “But judging by your lovely attire, I’m about to be?”

She pulled the robe tighter for a moment, and asked “Is this ok?” Breha trusted the integrity of their secure holo line; it had never been breached before. “My schedule is clear, and it’s the middle of the night for you.”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I might have to push a few meetings back tomorrow morning. What did you have in mind?”

She _hmmm_ -ed and lifted her left knee open- the robe fell back so he could (hopefully) see her lingerie clad body.  “Keep me company?” she offered.

His mouth fell open; she felt his eyes pour over her. Okay, she could work with this, he seemed just as committed.

“You look beautiful,” he managed.

“So do you. A sight for sore eyes.”

His gaze softened, and she suddenly felt so safe, held by him, even though he was so far away. It made her bolder.

She toyed with the edge of her stockings. “B, will you be a dear and take off your shirt? I love your shoulders...” And his chest and his abs, and....

He hurried to comply, not willing to drag his eyes away from her for long. When the shirt was off, she rolled the stocking down to her knee. “Is there anything you would like?” she asked sweetly, starting on the other.

“There are many things I would like,” he bit out.

“Hmm. What would you do if you were here?” she purred.

“First, I’d wrap my arms around your back and peel off that flimsy robe.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“I like it very much- don’t pout!- but I love your skin more.”

She sat up and shimmied around more than was necessary to take off the robe. Leaning forward, she flashed him a flattering view of her décolletage.

“While you were taking off my robe, I’d trace your jawline with my tongue, run my hands down your strong back.”

He closed his eyes with a small groan.

“Bail,” she whispered. “Are you ...getting hard?”

He quirked a grin, opening his eyes once again. “If you were here, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“If you were here, you’d know I was wet,” she told him in reply. Breha leaned back on her elbow and rested her right hand over her knickers. She was gratified when he mirrored her.

“Wait, before we, er, get into position,” he paused.

“Yes?” she replied, taking the purr out of her voice.

“I need a condom, for the mess,”

“Goddess bless, you know your practicality drives me wild,” she vowed seriously.

“And can you shift a bit? Only I can’t see your face.”

Could she marry him again?

It only took a moment of unsexy re-configuring. Breha and Bail both pulled off their remaining basic layers, plumped pillows and tried to relax but still put themselves on display. The had a brief discussion about what they wanted this to look like, Bail quickly checked the security of their line.

Finally, they were ready, and Breha drifted her hand down to her vulva; Bail squirted some lube in his hand and tightened around his cock.

And then with a smirk, he said, “Race you!”

“What?!” she shouted a laugh, but he showed no signs of slowing down, only offering her a playful wink. Goodness, the sudden image of him working a hand over himself was... she shivered, and began her own work, tight, quick circles with her first and middle finger on either side of her clit, her left hand roaming her body.

They watched each other, and were more vocal than they were when they were in the same bed, trying to outdo each other, a race to a mutually beneficial happy ending.

“Talk to me, B,” she asked breathlessly, when she felt herself start to plateau.

He complied, slowing his hand, willing to let her catch up.

Under the spell of his voice, encouraging, warm, and whispering filthy things about her body and what he wished he could do to her right now, she unraveled, the orgasm slammed into her like a sonic wave and she felt herself wash away from the sound of his voice and her hand moving frantically against her clit. She kept peaking, writhing on the sheets, the pleasure a sort of agony, a fire in her veins, a sweetness in her throat, caught in his gaze. He finally came with a shout that she heard, and she turned her head to watch him ride out the aftershocks, slowing her own hand in time.

When he looked at her again, eyes glassy with his spent pleasure, she raised her fingers to her mouth and licked them clean.

“ _Goddess_ damn me,” he muttered, and then collapsed back away from her.

She laughed, and leaned back, rolling over to face the comm. “Bail, come back.”

He groaned, his breathing still rapid.

“Bail....”

With another moan, he managed to flail around, rolling to face her. “Yes?”

“If I was there, I would hold you until you fell back to sleep.

He smiled. “It wouldn’t take long,” he told her. “Give me a second to clean up?”

She nodded, and got up to use the ‘fresher herself, put a clean pair of basics on and pulled the robe back on, tying it around her. She came back to bed and waited for Bail, brushing her long hair free from the knots he helped tie in her length.

“Thank you,” she said softly as he came back into frame, new basics and shirt on, fixing the blankets and sheets.

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine,” he teased, predictably.

She didn’t care. She pulled the hair and started braiding it. He hummed as he leaned back and she couldn’t keep from grinning.

“Anything else I can do for you?” he said, his words becoming slurred with sleep.

“No, my love. You’ve done enough, I can take it from here.”

His eyes snapped open. “I’m awake again.”

“I meant a shower,” she said primly. She tied off the braid with a snap of an elastic tie.

His face crinkled into a smile again. “Sure you did.”

Her smile betrayed everything. “Go to sleep, B. We can bend, er, protocols again tomorrow.”

“Is that a promise?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, I haven’t looked at my schedule yet.”

The silence fell between them. “Still, halfway through this legislative session. I’ll be home before you know it,” he broke in.

“That’s true. And Anla’s been wanting to take me toy shopping at a new boutique she knows of! That’ll help pass the time.”

He groaned, fell back again.

She laughed, toying with her robe. “So I’m not sure how to end a call like this. Thank you for devastating me with your lovely voice.”

He smirked. “Thank you for painting such a pretty picture for me.”

“Yeah, who know flickering blue holocalls could be so sexy?” She picked up the comm and held it closer.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I! You are impossibly beautiful,” she told him. "And I love watching your face when you come.”

“Is this a confessional?”

“Nope, just pillow talk.”

He yawned.

“Good night, B. I adore you,” she whispered softly.

“Good night, B. I’m coming home to you soon. Tell Daska to put that on your schedule.”

“What makes you think you aren’t on my schedule?” she laughed. “Remember what I said about protocols!”

She ended the comm and settled the night table back to its customary spot.

Breha swept all her pillows away and flopped belly first on the sheets. A little post-coital ennui was setting in. Pushing herself up and opening the drawer of the bedside table, she resolved to take care of that, no problem. She pulled out her favorite vibrator and settled back in for a long, lazy afternoon where time didn’t matter, with memories of Bail’s dark eyes tattooed onto her skin.


	2. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail returns home. Did you want more smut? Here is more smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still mad about wage shenanigans at work. Here is the result.

You're like good water pressure  
In a cold rainy summer  
I can feel in my fingers

-Pressure, Milk & Bone

 

* * *

 

Breha was up quite late. Waiting. Her staff had been dismissed for the day, she’d eaten an unhealthy dinner of mostly firecrackers and some leftover pâté, and now she was wrapped in a cherry red robe and sprawled across her sofa, scrolling through her datapad, toying with the end of her long, loose braid, her bare toes tapping against the arm of the couch.  

Somehow, some way, the ETA of the _Tantive III_ had slipped to the back of her mind. Not because she wasn’t delighted to see her husband (for four luxurious weeks; the Galactic Senate’s longest break of the year and the real reason she was up so late), but because there was devastating flooding in _two_ districts, and she was doing her utmost to support her regional governors. 

She startled when the lights flipped on, and turned to see Bail, the corners of his eyes crinkled into a look of amusement while he studied her. 

“You know, you should take a break once in awhile.”

She laughed softly. Marking her place in the report, she sat up and put her datapad on the coffee table. Off for now. 

“You’re home,” she sighed happily.  

“I’m home.” He was hanging up his coat, kicking off his shoes, crossing the room to pull her up off the couch. Wrapping her in his arms, he dipped and kissed her, mouth hot and insistent on hers. She could feel his intention in the tension of his back. _Yes_ was all she could think. Yes, _please_. The smell of his beard oil lingered still on his skin, filling her senses with him. 

When he finally pulled back and let her stand upright, she was dizzy, her knees positively weak. She clung to his strong shoulders, even as he towered over her. He was home, they were alone, and yes, _yes._

“I missed you too,” she managed breathlessly. Words were hard, words didn’t always need to be spoken. 

He kissed her again, lifting her swiftly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his middle, and he carried her to their bedroom, dropping her on the mattress. Home, he was home. He began peeling off his clothes and she untied her own robe, stripping off her pajamas and pulled the bedding back. 

And then, she opened the drawer in her bedside table, pulling out her newest toy. 

“Anla took me to that boutique I was telling you about,” she said. Bless Alderaan. She so often went around without an escort, no one cared if she went shopping, even for a sex toy. Especially if she wasn’t wearing gray. 

“What did you get?” Bail dimmed the lights low, creating a soft effect of just enough light and shadow. She liked to see him, and he missed seeing her, too. 

She offered her hand to him. Cradled in her palm was small device that looked like a venus shell; a black exterior, but an iridescent pink within. 

“It’s called a C-Shell, and I can tell you, it’s a perfect fit for me.”

He crawled into the bed after her; she could smell his beard oil again, and now his skin. “Oh?” Bail settled next to her, pulling her close to suck on her earlobe. “I guess you really did miss me.”

She hummed, reaching her free hand behind his neck. With a practiced finger, she pressed the discrete + button on the shell, and held it to his nipple. He groaned at the gentle suction. 

“I missed your mouth, but this is a nice substitute. If I can’t have the real thing.”  

Bail claimed her mouth again, and her hold loosened on the toy, he hissed as it pulled away. “I can see the appeal,” he murmured. “Let me try?” 

“The C doesn’t stand for cock,” she warned, teasingly. “You’re much too big for it, B.” She handed it over anyway. 

He laughed, and nuzzled her neck, dropping kisses on her brown skin. They were lost in the sensation of lips and skin and pressure. Finally, he pulled back and licked his lips. Breha helped him position the suction over her clit, then relaxed into the sensation, as his lips met hers again. 

He angled his body over hers, and the sensation of the kiss paired with the one the shell was simulating when straight to Breha’s head. She reached up and clung to Bail’s shoulders, a lifeline of sorts. Her head tilted back suddenly to pant, so close now, and he redirected his attention to her breasts. One of his fingers pressed the + again and suddenly she lost in a world of pleasure; her eyes slammed closed, her hips bucked, her back arched. He held the shell firmly in place, while she rode out wave after wave, until she had to push him away, the second setting too high, her clit too sensitive after his steady hold. 

“How many settings does this thing have?” he asked conversationally. 

She could have died in that moment, her entire _abdomen_ seemed to be clenching. She couldn’t answer, coming down from so many peaks she’d lost count. And then he was kissing her again, tongue sliding past her lips before she’d completely caught her breath. The shell was forgotten for the moment, for the want of his erection pressing against her.  

“I- I _need_ ,” she managed, begged really, then moaned as he captured her nipple with his mouth. 

“Tell me?” he asked around it. 

“I want you inside me, now, Bail, hurry-”

He followed her direction; she was so wet and open that it felt like relief when he could fill her with one steady stroke, both of them groaning at the sensation, the slide and the pressure. 

“Oh, B,” he murmured, his arms around her shoulders, holding her closer, as she rose to meet him. 

“Home,” she agreed, teasing her fingers through his hair. “You’re home.” She wrapped her legs around him again, as if to pull him in closer. 

This was quickly spiraling into something beyond the ordinary; their edges blurred, their desire seemed boundless, in his recovery, he toyed with her body, scaling new heights. The memories and fantasies they clung to when they were alone spooled out and threaded the two of them together in unexpected ways, codas and choruses. 

Finally, they collapsed, exhausted. He was still behind her, in her, going soft. The hand that had been holding the shell to her clit went slack, and she uncurled from the final orgasm that had caused her elbows to buckle.  

“Oh. Oh, _B_ ,” she managed.  

He kissed her shoulder, and shifted them, pulling out and tucking them into a gentle spooning. “You ok?”

“That was... yeah, I’m ok. I can’t feel my legs, but _oh_....”

He chuckled and pulled her back more firmly against his chest, his arm looped just under her breasts. He could feel her heart rate returning to normal, to beat in time with his own pulse. 

“I can’t move either.”

The birds outside their window were singing. It was very, very early in the morning. But she had told her staff that with Bail returning home so late, she’d need today off. Lucky thing. She’d check in with her governors and the flooding later, but right now, Bail was home. Bail was holding her. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve pulled an all-nighter,” he whispered the joke. 

“Can we properly call it an all nighter when you didn’t even get home until two?”

He chuckled. They needed to wash, to change the sheets, she needed some water, but in a minute. For now, she was so comfortable. 

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, Breha couldn’t even raise herself to  reach the blankets, let alone close the curtains. Bail would just have to keep her warm. 

They both softened into sleep, or something that looked like it. Furtively, she skirted a hand down below her belly button to rest. If something took, _please let something take_ , she’d name the baby after the dawn. Bail surprised her by moving his hand to rest on top of hers, gently hoping with her. Home, with her. She loved his body around hers, no toy could compare. 

There were a thousand things that needed saying between them, but this touch, this steady and reassuring pressure in his fingers, and the dawn they were sharing was beyond words. As her eyes fluttered closed in the low light, her last thought was simply the word _yes_. 


End file.
